Small Mercy
by ModdieMod
Summary: An Eradicon regrets breaking protocol, but soon comes to realize that despite rank and status, all Cybertronians are the same on the inside.
1. Chapter 1

He knew he was most likely breaking protocol, but what the commanding officers didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Spark oscillating rapidly in his chassis, the Eradicon waited a few seconds before rounding the corner and quickly making his way down the dimly lit hall of the _Nemesis._ He couldn't wait until tomorrow. He just _couldn't- he had to see it now._

If his luck ran out, he'd just pretend to be a junior soldier and say his superiors left him behind, that he was looking for them because he forgot where the quarters were. It was a pretty practical plan. Not like they could tell any of them apart. It was late anyway- so late that anyone who found him would probably be too bleary to care. His lip platings quirked upwards in a halfhearted smirk at the idea, and he shook his helm briefly.

Twin doors opened smoothly, revealing a large hallway that served as an enormous window- and that's when he saw it. His intakes stuttered, and he was so taken aback that he gave a small jump when the doors clicked shut behind him. There it was. _There it fragging was._

 _Cybertron..._

In all its fallen glory.

So close, yet so astoundingly far.. Placing a servo delicately on the glass, he let out a soft ex-vent that misted the window slightly, helm buzzing with an overload of emotions. He knew things were bad, but.. he hadn't realized it would be this.. _devastating_. In a sparkbeat, sparkling-like eagerness turned into sour despair.

The Energon veins were reduced to withering, gray, dried masses. What had once been a thriving metropolis humming with life was now nothing more than an empty graveyard, full of deathly echoes, of cries lost to the stars. Kaon, Iacon, Vos.. All just memories that reverberated painfully in his processor. They were hardly recognizable now. Homesickness made him slouch, filling him with yearning.

Cybertron wasn't home anymore. Not like this.

Regret dulled his optics, and he felt them sting, vision blurring slightly. Embarrassed and ashamed, the lowly Con took off his face mask to wipe at the tears brimming there with clumsy digits, giving a small shudder.

"Primus," he whispered, voice box cracking with pained bewilderment as he slipped his mask back on and clenched his servos, resting his forehelm on the glass and briefly shuttering his optics. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Conclusion: Agreed."

Letting out a soft yelp, the Eradicon straightened up and whirled around, battle frayed nerves causing him to draw his weapon and aim it instinctively at-...

"Commander SoundWave?"

His face plates heated up underneath his mask, and his spark twisted in terror.

 _What's he doing awake?! I'm fragged!_

The Commander and the Eradicon stared each other down for a few seconds, the latter's optics wide with fear, tanks clenched apprehensively. If SoundWave were to tell Megatron he'd blatantly disobeyed orders, he'd be slagged for sure. Why had that phrase started with an 'if' anyhow? Of _course_ he would tell him, it was _SoundWave_ , for crying out loud-

His processor raced frantically, and he flinched as SoundWave wordlessly raised a servo, cables tensing in preparation for the blow.. that never came. Instead, the doors opened at SoundWave's gesture, and the TIC moved aside to give his subordinate room.

"Command: Return to quarters as previously ordered," he said simply. The Eradicon's shoulder platings drooped, and he stored his weapon quickly, looking from SoundWave to the door quietly. That was it? That was all? He wasn't fragged?

SoundWave wasn't looking at him, however. His helm was turned to the window as well, and it looked like it took all his strength to stubbornly point the estranged Eradicon in the proper direction, his shoulder platings hunched upwards tightly, as if they'd fall any second.

 _He feels it too.._

SoundWave's previous statement made his chassis clench uncomfortably. A small pang of surprised sympathy went through his spark, and the Eradicon nodded rapidly before starting to edge away.

"Yes, Commander SoundWave," he said quickly, thanking Primus for his luck before slipping out the doors and rapidly scurrying down the halls, leaving the Third In Command alone.

Ashamed, rattled, and massively homesick, he wanted nothing more than a vorn long recharge.


	2. Chapter 2

The quarters were dark, and quiet. Good. Eradicon 41-000 removed his mask and ex-vented heavily, his shoulder platings sagging heavily with the burden he'd just acquired. No more than two seconds later, a shape moved in the darkness, and he jumped, clutching his face mask in fear. Two eager, red optics stared back at him, glowing with excitement.

"Did ya see it? Did you get caught? What was it like?"

"...Go back to recharge," he grumbled gruffly, walking over to his own berth and curling up tightly, trying very hard to ignore the ache in his chassis. For once, he hoped to Primus that 4N-D13 would just be _quiet_. But that wasn't the case. Instead, the younger mech clambered over and poked him.

"Come on, that's not fair," his younger sibling half-whined. Despite being a soldier, he could act like such a _sparkling_ sometimes. "You have to tell me what it looked like. 41? ...Hey, I miss home too, you know-"

That was _it_. 41-000 sat up rapidly, a scowl on his scarred faceplates as he squared his shoulder platings and locked his jaw.

"Now you listen," he hissed. "That's.. that place isn't home, alright? At least not anymore. Get that through your helm."

His harsh tone made 4N-D13 draw back quickly, his optics wide and hurt. Aghast, he shook his helm slowly, fiddling with his digits nervously.

"But.. Cybertron-"

"Is _gone_ ," 41-00 choked out bitterly, clenching his digits tightly and looking away as his vocalizer caught. "It's gone. It's not Cybertron anymore, it's not home anymore- fact, I don't know what the slag it is but it's just _not_ , alright?"

He was ventilating heavily by the time his miniature rant was done, and he forced himself to lie back down, shuttering his optics pointedly. His audials picked up the sound of a soft ex-vent and the quiet pede steps of the younger mech going back to his own berth.

"...Night, 41."

The two words sent a pang through his spark, and he grimaced, turning over onto his side uncomfortably as his optics burned.

For once, he was glad they were to be left behind on the ship.


End file.
